


Beauty

by AngelPair



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bad Touching, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Instability, Murder, Strangulation, dark/evil!Prussia, prostitute!England, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 03:10:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16317989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelPair/pseuds/AngelPair
Summary: Prussia x England. Human AU. Short drabble request that I'm moving over from an old writing blog. This one is dark and contains murder. The prompt was  “I picked you off the street because you were beautiful. You should feel flattered.”





	Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Moving a drabble request over from my old writing blog. Background for this is a simple kidnapping situation. The two were strangers to each other before this, Gilbert is alcoholic and mentally unstable, Arthur is a prostitute. This drabble involves character death + strangulation tw.

An empty beer bottle smashed the stone wall behind his head, and though he flinched, Arthur glowered. He had nothing to fear, he told himself - the bottle wasn’t aimed to hit him anyway and the drunken idiot in front of him was cackling. Just another joke.

 

“Ha! Got your attention there, pretty boy,” red eyes were gleeful, and Arthur was tempted to shove past the stumbling, unsteady drunk to get to the door. However, Arthur’s hands were cuffed behind his back, and had lost most of their feeling after three days in such a position. Meanwhile, his customer-turned-captor was much more able than he appeared, even whilst intoxicated. Arthur stayed put.

 

“Indeed,” he sneered, lip curling in contempt as the man stumbled towards him, a wicked and lecherous grin in place.

 

“You gonna let me have some fun tonight, Liebling? I can only be patient for so long. Come on, I’ll pay you in advance,” the drunk reached towards him and Arthur shouldered him off. The shove was met with more laughter, “Come on pretty, you haven’t even told me your real name yet. You’re not really called Angel, right? How will I know what to moan if you don’t open up to me a little?”

 

A hand stroked the side of his face, and another reached to grasp his bare cock. With that, Arthur had had enough. He had been in this room for three nights already, stark naked and exposed because he had been ready to be fucked when the kidnapper had bound him. An empty fucking room with a bucket of water and a bucket to do his business in. He had barely even seen his drunken captor in all that time, the room stunk, he was starving and cold, he missed his home and his cat, and he was fed up of the constant uncertainty and fear tearing up his insides. The jackass that put him in such a position was not going to get away with freely fondling his cock, and with an angered roar, Arthur smacked his forehead into the German’s nose, which broke with a sharp crack under the force.

 

Howling, the man stumbled back, but Arthur lost his smug expression when he looked back up to a – now bloody – face of rage. Maybe that desperate act wasn’t such a good idea after all.

 

“What the  _fuck_ was that for?” the man snarled at him, reminding Arthur somewhat of a vicious attack dog, “Ungrateful little slut! I picked you off the street because you were beautiful. You should feel flattered. There were hundreds I could have taken home with me and I took you, and this is how you show your fucking gratitude?”

 

The man was yelling now, and Arthur only had a moment to be stunned by the man’s ego before he was yanked off his feet and slammed into the wall by his neck. He would have screamed but the grip on his neck was too tight, and he would have clawed but his hands were still restrained. He kicked, but the man didn’t even flinch, red eyes vicious and grin spitting maliciously as his eyes stared intently at Arthur’s face.

 

Arthur tried to wait it out, waited for the man to drop him, to see that he’d learned his lesson. Seconds felt like hours and his lungs burned and the panic snapped his resolve, kicking again, wriggling as he gaped like a fish and his eyes streamed with tears, trying to free himself from all restraint. His body went limp as one struggling wrist snapped in its cuff, the sudden pain stealing too much of his remaining oxygen.

 

The hand was still tight around his throat, he could feel it. It stung, not as much as lungs or his wrist. He couldn’t see his attacker, his vision was gone, the world was blurry and pink. And as unconsciousness pulled him away from the painful reality, a sick emotional pain racked him too, because he knew he would never be waking up again.


End file.
